


Bobby Tops

by Miivahkiin



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist - All Media Types, Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-04 19:44:11
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 806
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15154286
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miivahkiin/pseuds/Miivahkiin
Summary: March is a gardener and gets employed by Kimblee to grow him a bed of bobby tops."Write about your main muse or otp from an outsider’s perspective. A minor character, a random “everyday worker” they’ve met, etc. " - writing prompt for the east city writer's workshop!





	Bobby Tops

“You want me to grow you a bed of Bobby Tops?”, March asked his new boss in a rather unbelieving voice and folded his arms over his chest loosely.

“That's what I've asked you to do, yes.” Mr. Kimblee's reply was not necessarily unfriendly but March could tell that he was already tired of the conversation. Even though he appeared to him like a gentleman, he could not hide these little hints along their talk – or did not care enough to do so.

He adjusted the sleeve of his coat. An unfitting coat for the mild weather today, if there were any mild days in the north during summer at all, and let the gardener wonder if he even could survive a harsh winter at this place when he already dressed himself like that. But despite the warm coat he seemed to shiver beneath it. No, this man was not made for the north and yet he was here. “Why would you try to grow anything in the north. See, it's not easy and most plants doesn't even survive the summer. Haven't met anyone who asked me something like that yet.” He gazed at his boss in a certain way and he picked a cigarette from its box, offered Mr. Kimblee one as well, but he politely declined though.

Idly he buried his hands inside the pockets of his coat instead and smiled at March, telling him that it was none of his business, he was just here to do his job. “As long as I pay you for it.”

March sighed in defeat and nodded, he had not much interest in taking that conversation further. If he was honest he did not want the job, yet Mr. Kimblee paid him more than most and apart from that March already knew his family – his mother to be more precise. Mrs. Kimblee was a more pleasant person than her son. Everyone was probably a more pleasant company than him.

 

Sometimes Mr. Kimblee watched him working in the garden from inside the house but rarely bothered to come outside and talk to him - something March was glad about since he preferred it that way. He could not tell what made him so upset about his boss, most of the time he was friendly, even requested him in the most polite way he had ever experienced to grow another bed of wildflowers. His voice had become so fondly out of a sudden that March was surprised and also confused at the very same time. It was as if his friendly mask was cracking enough to show his true face but he knew enough about people to tell that Mr. Kimblee was a great actor and it had surely been no mistake. He did not make such mistakes. As soon as that mask had appeared to crack, it was all there again without the tiniest of a scratch and he had regarded his employee more closely after that.

Perhaps it was the way he watched him, his gaze never revealed any of his thoughts and rested on him and even other people so calmly and calculating that it made March uncomfortable. It was like he read him without him knowing it - an odd feeling. Even if he could not spot him behind one of the houses' windows, March felt watched by thousand eyes whenever he turned to the flowers. The house was as upsetting as Mr. Kimblee was in that regard but there was no rational explanation to it. He did not even want to think about it more than necessary. If Mr. Kimblee had not paid him that well, March would have been gone after the second day, he thought.

His boss was as mysterious to him like the shadow he saw from time to time behind the curtains - both of them were there but at the same time they were not. Just a presence lingering above him. The fact that March knew nothing about him besides of his name and the rumors about the Crimson Lotus Alchemist and his involvement in the military just added more to the realization that he did not like this place. Were these even only rumors, he wondered and remembered a brief conversation with the mother who had just laughed and promised him that her son was a wonderful man. There was no reason to worry about it. And she had done that with a voice that could have convinced anyone. March muttered something beneath his breath as he continued to rake the bed with Bobby Tops. They grew slowly but still looked lovely in the morning light.

 

From inside the house a soft melody played on a piano reached his ears and made him stop in in work for a short moment. A smile crossed his lips before he started raking again.


End file.
